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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28025952">The Incident (And How It Doesn't Mean That Bree Is A Lesbian. At All. Just Let It Go.)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/WickedHeadache/pseuds/WickedHeadache'>WickedHeadache</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Desperate Housewives</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/F, Friends to Lovers, Gay Panic, Secret Relationship, Sexuality Crisis, bree doesn't understand she's bisexual and figures it out through lady kisses, small mention of orson but he's so unimportant we pretend he doesn't exist</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 22:41:00</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>8,254</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28025952</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/WickedHeadache/pseuds/WickedHeadache</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>For reasons Bree can't begin to understand, she's constantly finding herself in situations. Situations that involve her kissing Katherine. But they are completely accidental, of course.</p><p>It's not like she's a lesbian, right?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Katherine Mayfair/Bree Van de Kamp</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>36</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>The Incident (And How It Doesn't Mean That Bree Is A Lesbian. At All. Just Let It Go.)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The first time it happened, it wasn't clear who had started it. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>All Bree could remember was chatting about a client over a cup of tea. She was carrying that feeling in her chest, the tightness squeezing her lungs until she couldn't breathe, like it always did when Katherine was around. As one ought to react when in such proximity to someone that showed open care and understanding towards them.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>(It was something Bree recalled feeling at the beginning of her relationship with Orson, before all the secrets and conspiracies. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But in a friendly manner, of course.)</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Their knees were dangerously skimming against each other to the point she could feel Katherine's body heat and Bree thought that her eyes were failing her when she saw Katherine staring down at her lips, and suddenly her hand was gripping Katherine's thigh and Katherine was wrapping her arms around her — and they were </span>
  <em>
    <span>kissing</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Not a friendly peck on the lips that could be brushed off as a mortifying accident, but an open-mouthed kiss where she was able to taste Katherine's tongue. It was messy and rushed and wet, and Bree was pretty sure that at one point she had sunk her teeth on Katherine's lip and pulled.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Katherine moaned and Bree felt light-headed, and she couldn't recall the last time she and Orton had kissed like this. They indulged in a relatively active sexual life, more than Bree had with Rex, and she didn't think she'd ever been more passionate about sex as she was nowadays, but it had been awhile since the last time they'd kissed in a way that led to making love. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bree had only kissed men this way when it led to making love.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When that thought came to her, a wave of panic crashed down on Bree, and she pushed Katherine away, eyes blown open and breathing hard. She stumbled out of Katherine's house. She could barely feel her knees working. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Oddly, she felt drunk, but missing the comfort of having the memories of her mishaps erased the next morning.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She would like to blame that </span>
  <em>
    <span>this</span>
  </em>
  <span> had ever happened on Katherine, but the way her heart had raced at the thought of making love with her was not easy to ignore. She wasn't stupid.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But she also wasn't a lesbian — Bree was certain of that.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They didn't see each other for five days after that, and they didn't talk to each other for over a week. They had managed to wordlessly arrange to switch their attendance of their business's events to one or the other and, instead of meeting face-to-face, they passed along messages through a third person. Like schoolgirls. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was completely justified.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Alas, she could only avoid her neighbor for so long. Bree was drinking a glass of lemonade with the girls, who were sipping calmly glasses of wine and bickering mindlessly over whether or not Pam Geller had had plastic surgery, when she spotted Katherine stopping to chat with Mrs McCluskey across the street. She had that haughty smile in her face that Bree had learned to appreciate, lips painted in pink, and she looked stunning.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Not that Bree paid attention to that kind of thing.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey, Katherine!” Susan was calling and waving at the woman before Bree could do anything about it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Her eyes widened for a brief instant and she managed to look as neutral as usual by the time Katherine was turning her head. She paled slightly when her gaze fell on Bree. Bree stared right back, biting the inside of her cheeks and holding her breath. A little voice in the back of her head told her that this was </span>
  <em>
    <span>not </span>
  </em>
  <span>appropriate at all — not for friends, not even ones that accidentally locked lips — but she wasn't going to be the one that broke eye contact.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It took Katherine a charged second more than what was natural to respond to Susan. When she finally looked away from Bree, she smiled politely and waved her fingers at them.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Good afternoon, ladies,” she said, staying pointedly in place instead of crossing the street to join them like anyone would.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Susan, being Susan, did not take the hint. “Come join us,” she signalled with a hand for Katherine to get closer.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Katherine's body language screamed that she wanted to run home and away from this situation, but the woman just walked across the street and up the stairs to Lynette's porch. Her smile had decidedly turned awkward.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“How are you girls doing?” Katherine said.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We're good, you want a glass of wine?” Gaby offered.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, I'm good, thank you,” she turned the offer down.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“How've you been?" Susan asked. “I feel like I haven't seen you in forever and you live right across the street.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes, well… I've been busy.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Katherine's eyes flicked away. She looked like she'd rather the earth to swallow her than to respond to that. Bree could relate. Susan began to ramble some Mike-related tale that Bree didn't pay attention to. She was too busy examining the way the sunlight reflected on Katherine's hair and how the muscles of her cheeks twitched like it did when she was beginning to lose her patience.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bree gulped down a mouthful of lemonade, feeling a blush rising to her pale cheeks. She remembered vividly what that hair smelled like — the scent of Katherine's shampoo was overwhelmingly strong. And more importantly, she remembered how velvety Katherine's lips were as they moved against her own, the feeling of Katherine's breasts pressed against hers as she swiped her tongue over Bree's. Her face turned crimson red and- </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lord almighty.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bree </span>
  <em>
    <span>had</span>
  </em>
  <span> to get out of here.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Katherine was wearing a blouse with a low v- neck that revealed a modest amount of cleavage and it was very… distracting. Katherine as a whole was always distracting, Bree noted.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Bree, are you okay?” Gabrielle's question made her drag her gaze away from Katherine's chest. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She smiled tightly, hoping that it disguised her mild panic she was going through. “Me? Of course I'm alright, why do you ask?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You're looking a little flushed. Are you getting sick or something?” Susan pointed out.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, isn't it hot out here?” Bree replied innocuously.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Not really,” Katherine drawled.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bree looked back to her and found her lifting a brow, staring back knowingly at her. It was frustrating in its appeal and Bree did not appreciate it. She shot her a glare and took another gulp of her drink, if only to hide her face behind the glass. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She stood up abruptly. Katherine had the nerve to look amused by her lack of composure. Bree cleared her throat and smiled pleasantly to make up for it. People were always more agreeable if she curled her lips with the hint of a smile. She could feel Lynette and Gaby frowning at her before she quickly excused herself.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, it's been nice catching up with all of you, but I have some cleaning left to do at home and I would like to be done with it before Orson arrives.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She walked away, her arm unintentionally brushing with Katherine on her way to the street. She went home and ran to the bathroom. She splashed her face with cold water until the heat in her cheeks became tolerable. As she stood up looking down to the sink she noticed a dirty mark. She grabbed a cloth and cleaned it off, then she cleaned the entire sink. Then the bath, then the toilet.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Then she moved onto the bedroom. Then the hallway. Then the kitchen.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Then she polished the silver.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The skin of her arm was itching, and it was not related to the scrubbing she had subjected it to.</span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>The second time it happened, Bree assured herself that it hadn't actually been desired on her part. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She remembered the mischief gleaming in Katherine's eyes — and the fear, always the fear reflected in Bree's eyes — and the tentative gliding of the woman's feet as she approached her at Bob and Lee's Halloween party.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They had somehow managed to work together like they used to, maintaining a strict distance of four feet and evading any conversation that could lead to more indecent episodes like what Bree had inwardly started to call </span>
  <em>
    <span>that incident</span>
  </em>
  <span>. It was safe, and Bree had memorised the list of unspoken rules they had established as one small, yet reassuring way of keeping herself in check. They were doing </span>
  <em>
    <span>great</span>
  </em>
  <span>, they were moving on, no rules had been broken, and Bree was definitely </span>
  <em>
    <span>not gay</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Except-</span>
</p><p> </p><p><span>Except Katherine had dressed up as a queen and the corset was defining Katherine's most flattering assets, to which Bree had refused to allow her eyes flicker down. Except Katherine was crossing that four feet line and was actively engaging in physical contact. Except</span> <span>Bree's skin was tingling under the warmth of Katherine's hand in her arm and Bree-</span></p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bree's basic instincts were telling her to push away, to be outraged. Because she </span>
  <em>
    <span>should </span>
  </em>
  <span>be. She should be scoffing at Katherine for her cheek and pointing out that she was not a lesbian, and that she did not wish to be touched. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She </span>
  <em>
    <span>did not</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>However, Katherine was smiling at her in that defeated way she had when they had first worked together and all she wanted was for her and Bree to be </span>
  <em>
    <span>friends</span>
  </em>
  <span> and- Bree had thought the worst of her. She had tried to poison her whilst Katherine wanted to show her her appreciation of their friendship.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She could not see that heartbroken look in Katherine's face again. They were friends, and friends touched, and even if Katherine had any wild ideas in mind, it wasn't like Bree was going to respond to her advances.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>No, Bree didn't fantasize about being propped up against a kitchen counter and kissed in inappropriate places until she was left breathless </span>
  <em>
    <span>at all</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I like your costume,” Katherine told her. Bree looked down to herself. She was a cheerleader.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Thank you. I find your costume fascinating as well,” she said, putting on her mask and smiling politely.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Then Katherine's smile turned nervous. “Can we talk? Somewhere private.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bree faltered. She would not grimace, however, no matter how much her cheeks ached by forcing her facial muscles to maintain a smile. “Is something the matter?” She gritted through her teeth, voice as chipper as it could get.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The smile dropped from Katherine's face completely before she rearranged her features into a blank, amicable expression Bree was personally familiar with.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Actually, I believe this can wait until tomorrow. I'm sorry for bothering you,” Katherine said. Bree frowned because- since when Katherine apologized for anything? She just </span>
  <em>
    <span>pushed</span>
  </em>
  <span> and </span>
  <em>
    <span>strived</span>
  </em>
  <span>, and was so unapologetically herself that Bree felt a little envious at times. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Something had to be wrong.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Wait, Katherine,” Bree subconsciously reached to grab Katherine's wrist, but stopped herself halfway through. Katherine clocked the movement, and visibly deflated in front of her. “You-,” she swallowed as discreetly as she could muster, “You can talk to me about </span>
  <em>
    <span>anything</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, it's just business related,” Katherine waved off her concerns.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I don't mean to be presumptuous, but it sure doesn't seem like it.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Katherine scoffed wryly. “Doesn't it?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“As a matter of fact, whatever is floating around in that head of yours appears to be intimately personal,” she lifted a challenging brow.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Katherine shot her a sardonical look. “So we're talking about this now?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bree smiled, eyes carefully emotionless. “Talking about what?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Bree, I'll be blunt with you, because I myself can't stand being bullshitted and I'd like to give you the same benefit,” Katherine sighed as she said. She sounded oh so condescending and a tiny fire in Bree's chest lit up. She straightened her back, ready to get on the offensive. “I would like for you to grow up and stop shutting me out.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I'm not sure I understand what you're implying,” she clenched her jaw, daring Katherine to continue this ill-advised line of conversation.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Weren't you so eager to know what I want to say?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I was. I </span>
  <em>
    <span>am</span>
  </em>
  <span>. But-” Bree suddenly felt exhausted. “Surely, you must understand that there's a time and a place for such… matters.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I agree,” Katherine nodded without hesitation.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Besides, wouldn't you prefer to keep your mind clear from that kind of distasteful memories? I know I do.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Katherine scoffed at that. “Distasteful? Really, Bree? I think you'll find that my conscience is clear.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You sinned.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So did you. At least my sins affect no other than myself.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Excuse me?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Katherine leaned forward, a tight smile stretching her lips. “I'm not the one who's married,” she whispered, baring her teeth almost in a snarl.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There was a few inches of distance left between their faces, and Bree could sense Katherine's hot breath hitting her chin. It made her want to do idiotic things. Like pushing Katherine away so she could breathe, or just eliminating the distance altogether.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Is that a threat?" She crossed her arms and lifted an unimpressed brow.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“A reminder, actually. Thought you needed it,” she remarked.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bree fumed. She dared to judge her, and her marriage, when she was </span>
  <em>
    <span>no one</span>
  </em>
  <span> to tell her what she needed. Or wanted.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>In fact, five minutes later, in the privacy of a light-depraved coat closet, Bree was showing her exactly what she thought about Katherine's assumptions. She had pushed her against the closed door, mumbling something about Katherine being an ignorant fool and shutting up any complaints with her lips. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They were kissing again, and this time Bree was certain she was going to come out of the closet looking like someone had sucked her soul out through her lips.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Oh, the irony.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She would laugh if she weren't feeling like she was about to pass out. Katherine's hand was wandering up her inner thigh and Bree was pretty sure that what her hand was gripping was not the back of Katherine's thigh.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Then Katherine cupped her sex over her underwear and Bree was moaning against her lips as her clit throbbed with the need to be bare for this woman and-</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>No. No, no, no- Bree couldn't allow this. Bree needed rules. The rules — like the ones that said that they shouldn't… Well, she couldn't exactly remember what they said at the moment, but she was certain that it had been something wise. Something that was the complete opposite of what Bree was craving for, to her horror.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I'm not a lesbian,” she blurted out, breaking the kiss. Boundaries, she repeated to herself.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She couldn't tell if Katherine's chuckle was self-deprecating or mocking. “That's okay,” she said. “Neither am I.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She began to lazily kiss the side of Bree's neck. Bree did not push her away. The hand between her legs was slowly beginning to caress her sex with tentative yet stimulating movements and Bree had to resist the urge to press down against it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>This was one of those moments Bree wished she weren't an alcoholic so she could drink and have something to blame these shameful moments of weakness on.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>After ten minutes, she was panting into the thick air, hips moving along with Katherine's hand as the waves of her orgasm came crashing down on her. She had shut her eyes tightly as she attempted to catch her breath and keep her knees from wobbling.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Katherine's other hand — the one that wasn't in contact with her underwear — was caressing and pushing a lock of red hair behind her ear.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>So.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The rules weren't working correctly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She would worry about fixing them later. In her home. After changing out of her soaking undergarments and taking a searing hot shower that'd wash her sins away.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But first, she had to blindly find her coat in the dark and leave before somebody caught them red-handed.</span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Are you sure you want to do this?” She asked one last time, weariness evident in her features.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Because she had the feeling it was extremely necessary. Bree wasn't about to be responsible for an accident.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes!” Susan laughed. “Go, I'll be fine. I got your instructions.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I just don't want to encourage any likely fires that could result from this,” Bree explained.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I'm not gonna set anything on fire,” Susan said, not sounding all that convinced herself. “Worst case scenario, I screw up the tart and I'll have to make a quick run to the bakery.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I could just make it for you,” she offered.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Susan shook her head. “This is something I've got to do on my own.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She said that with a dramatic seriousness that was so very Susan-like that Bree's lips quirked upwards. She was about to leave when she spotted a blur of gray fur from the corner of her eye. She frowned.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Seriously, you don't have to stick around. I got this,” Susan continued.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bree wrinkled her nose when she noticed what she had seen. “Is that a cat?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When she looked back to Susan, she had a sheepish grin in her face. “Yeah, isn't he just </span>
  <em>
    <span>adorable</span>
  </em>
  <span>?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Why do you own a cat?” Bree narrowed her eyes. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Cats were messy — although better than dogs in multiple ways. They scratched the furniture, left unpleasant odors inside the house every time they did their necessities, and they lost hair wherever they went. They were a pain to clean after, and they made keeping the house tidy difficult.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>If Bree wasn't up for that kind of challenge, she couldn't imagine what had possibly possessed Susan to make a task she rarely accomplished in the first place more complicated.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Susan pouted then, as if sensing the judgement in Bree's eyes. “I'm lonely, okay?” She whined. “Since the divorce, with Julie gone, I don't have much company left. And MJ doesn't count.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Alright.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She sat down. She could already tell she wasn't leaving this house any time soon. Once Susan began to talk, she blathered on until there was no life left to tell.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You're lucky, you've never had to deal with anything like this.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Excuse me?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I mean, you've always had someone, in a serious way,” Susan explained, like it was obvious. “I don't understand how you get men to marry you so easily. I think I should just give up and become a lesbian.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Susan sighed, defeated as she supported her chin on her palm over the counter. Bree lifted her brows, surprised.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I… don't believe that's how lesbianism works.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She didn't add anything else, mind racing with thoughts of soft lips and hands, and the lack of scratchy beards, and fingers touching her </span>
  <em>
    <span>just right</span>
  </em>
  <span>, not even having to get inside of her, until she was putty on Katherine's-</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bree cleared her throat. Her cheeks were heating up, but she kept her chin up.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She had never been attracted to a woman, never felt this way before. She had always been pleased enough with the company of men. And she still was, but the things Katherine had awakened within her had her wondering if maybe there was some truth to Susan's thinking.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Maybe you could just swear off of men overnight.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Except Bree </span>
  <em>
    <span>wasn't</span>
  </em>
  <span> a lesbian, she liked men. So maybe Susan was wrong.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Then it should work like that!” Susan complained. “I'm tired of men. They're disappointing.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bree said briskly, “Well, I will admit I can see the appeal of-” she restrained herself from saying </span>
  <em>
    <span>being with a woman</span>
  </em>
  <span>, because she didn't, “swearing off of men but…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bree's brows furrowed in thought. She had been heading to a point that at the moment completely escaped her.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“But…?” Susan encouraged.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Do you ever… think about women?” She asked tentatively, hoping Susan's naivety would work in her favor and blind her of Bree's own fears and doubts.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“How?” Susan looked confused.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“About what you like about them.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“They're funny?” Susan tried weakly. “They also are the best for gossip? Ooh! Once this woman that used to be a masseur offered to give me a free massage after what happened with Karl, and she had some sort of magic fingers, I swear! Took all the stress away. So you could say women are nice. Nicer than men. Sometimes. Except for Evie.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bree's head was still stuck in </span>
  <em>
    <span>magic fingers</span>
  </em>
  <span> and the rest of Susan's words fell of deaf ears. She shook herself out of the stupor. And if she had contemplated, briefly, about what else those fingers could do in a woman's body, well… That was Susan's fault for her choice of words.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“But do you see yourself with a woman like-” she faltered. She thought of curves and properly moisturized skin, of seductive manipulation that took her breath away. She thought of that high school English teacher with dark brown hair and freckles that looked slightly younger than the rest, of Mary Alice's blinding smile and warm hands, of Katherine's smirks and tantalizing swagger that challenged Bree to- to- “like </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span>?" She finished, not knowing how else to express the whirlwind of musings in her head.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She was sounding too eager, wasn't she? She was showing too much interest in this and Susan would be suspicious of her intentions. Maybe she already knew, maybe it was that obvious, maybe- Susan pressed her lips together into a thin line for a second, before she shook her head. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No, I like penis too much.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Susan!” She gasped.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Sorry,” Susan winced sheepishly, because at least one of Bree's friends had a sense of decency. Even while discussing the possibility of a lesbian affair. “What about you?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What about me?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Susan's eyes gleamed mischievously. “Have you ever thought about playing a game for the other team?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Of course I haven't,” Bree bristled. Susan had noticed. Bree had been reckless, and now Susan knew that she had- That Katherine- She wouldn't allow this. “How could you even suggest that?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Susan burst out in laughter, unflattering snorts erupting from her throat. “Relax, I was just messing with you. You're, like, the least gay person I've ever met, Bree. You just don't have it in you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bree imperceptibly deflated. It had been a joke. Susan thought the idea of Bree being —like </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span>— was unimaginable. Ridiculous, even. Because it was, right?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Right.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was just a joke, and Bree laughed. It sounded contrite to her ears, but she hoped Susan was clueless enough to not notice.</span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>The third time it happened, they were having their poker game at Bree's house. The girls had had the initiative to invite Katherine. For Bree. Because Bree had asked them to give her a chance and they finally decided to listen to her when it was the least convenient to Bree.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She and Katherine weren't talking about Halloween but, to be fair, they weren't talking about anything. They worked together, and they kept their distance, and if either of them ever (accidentally) initiated physical contact, they waited one to three seconds before pulling away — enough to satisfy their unspoken need for touch, enough to look natural when they parted ways. But they were never alone in a room, Bree made sure of that.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She couldn't have another incident happening.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They were all already sitting, waiting for Katherine to arrive. She was the only one that was missing, and the only spot left was between Susan and Bree. That would cross multiple lines, break necessary rules, and Bree had to gulp as she tried to scheme her way out of this situation.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Lynette,” she called the woman sitting across her. “Do you think we could switch places?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The blonde woman looked at her oddly. “Why?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It's just-” Bree spluttered for a moment. “It's closer to the kitchen.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lynette shot her an incredulous look. “You're kidding.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I am not, as a matter of fact, </span>
  <em>
    <span>kidding</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” she sniffed haughtily. “Your seat is placed several inches closer to the kitchen door.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Bree, that's-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She heard a knock on the front door. Bree shut her eyes, silently praying it was just Mrs McCluskey asking for baking tips.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It's open!" Gaby shouted for her.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She shot Lynette one last desperate glance that went right over the woman's head. The front door clicked shut and the sound of heels clacking against the floor got louder as Katherine neared them.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hello, am I too late?” Katherine asked.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bree cleared her throat and turned her head to look at her over her shoulder with a tight smile. “It looks like you're right on time,” she said, voice a little too high and gritted to sound nonchalant.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Katherine stared back at her, blankly, and sat down in the seat next to Bree. She felt her chest rising as she took a deep breath. She didn't need to look aside to note the lack of space between them. She sensed it just fine.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Her shoulders instantly tensed, and she attempted to subtly shift away from Katherine in her chair, to establish one more inch of distance from her. The game began minutes later and Bree was certain she had lost all of her alertness.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You don't have to be nervous around me, you know?” Katherine muttered, leaning slightly toward her.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I'm not,” she denied, law clenching at the closeness to the woman.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Katherine chuckled to herself. “It's not like I'm going to jump you,” she remarked.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bree looked down nonchalantly, pretending to be focusing on her cards. “I should hope not.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Katherine just sighed, shaking her head as she leaned back in her seat. Her mere presence was enough to overwhelm her senses, and her body was openly retracting from Katherine as a defense mechanism.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I can see all your cards, by the way,” Katherine commented a second later.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bree's eyes went round. “Fuck!” She growled.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>All heads snapped towards her in bewilderment and mild concern. Bree ignored them. She was allowed to curse, she grumbled inwardly. Besides, it was all Katherine's fault. </span>
  <em>
    <span>She</span>
  </em>
  <span> was the one putting Bree on edge. She shot a frustrated look at Katherine, who was struggling to keep down a cackle.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“A word in the kitchen, please,” she commanded Katherine through gritted teeth and pushed her chair back to stand up. “If you excuse us, ladies, we'll be right back.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She strode into the kitchen without another word nor taking a glance back. Katherine sighed indulgently and shook her head to herself before, more patiently, following Bree.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What the hell just happened?” Gaby said.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They could still hear her from the other room, which meant they had to be quiet if she wanted to avoid being overheard.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Katherine crossed her arms on her chest, pursing her lips at Bree expectantly. Bree fondled with her hands over her stomach and took a deep breath, the frown between her brow toughening her expression. She had to calm down. She didn't want to scream, or break something, or overall lose her cool more than she already had. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Alright, out with it, what's going on?” Katherine asked.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I'd appreciate it if you stayed away from me,” Bree hissed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Excuse me</span>
  </em>
  <span>?” Katherine inadvertently raised her voice and Bree promptly shushed her. “Excuse me?” She repeated, quieter, calmer, still unimpressed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You with the- the-” she stammered, not quite sure how to express what Katherine had been triggering within her.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Is talking with you suddenly offensive and you just never told me?” Katherine snarked.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>That sobered Bree up right away. “Don't sass me. You've been waltzing around me like we're sharing some homosexual bonding experience and I'm not comfortable with that.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Bree, I don't know what impression I have been giving you, but I won't waste my time chasing after somebody that </span>
  <em>
    <span>clearly</span>
  </em>
  <span> doesn't want me,” Katherine scoffed and cocked a brow at her. “I like you, but it's evident that you have your issues.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bree narrowed her eyes. “Issues?” She repeated flatly. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“With the gay thing,” she explained, like it was obvious.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bree's offended gasp quickly became bewildered spluttering until Bree exclaimed in a high-pitched voice: “I have no issues with the gay thing because there is no gay thing!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Great, then!” Katherine flashed her a sardonic smile that gave her flashbacks of their rivalry days. “Then what's the problem? Because I would like to have a regular conversation with my closest friend without her freaking out and stop talking to me for three days.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bree sighed and turned her back on Katherine. She hid her face in her palms. “Nothing,” she shook her head. “I'm sorry, I-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She swallowed down the urge to cry of frustration. She could do that later, when Katherine left her, the kitchen and her chaotic feelings behind.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Bree,” Katherine's sympathetic voice rang in her ears. She sensed the question (</span>
  <em>
    <span>are you okay?</span>
  </em>
  <span>) that Katherine would most likely avoid to say out loud. Because she was respectful. “I just want my friend back.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bree slowly turned around. She was doing it again — she was mistreating Katherine out of her image of Katherine instead of who she really was. Katherine wasn't competing against her, Katherine wasn't flirting with her, Katherine wasn't asking anything from her but her friendship. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bree had gotten it all wrong again.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She wrapped her arms around her middle and looked up at her with unguarded eyes. Katherine tilted her head, blinking back in askance.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The problem was that, once again, Bree didn't know how she was supposed to be friends with Katherine.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I can't stop thinking about it,” Bree admitted in a small voice. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Katherine's lips parted in surprise after a moment of confusion. “Oh,” she breathed out.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It just keeps repeating itself in my head again and again, and no matter how hard I strive to push the memory away, lock it inside an insignificant box in my head, I can't stop remembering how it was,” Bree said, voice raw with emotion like she never allowed it to be. Teary eyes looked back at Katherine's shocked ones in defeat. “It terrifies me.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Bree,” Katherine took a shaky deep breath. “I'm about to do something scary, and possibly stupid, and if you don't want it, I need you to stop me, okay?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bree looked puzzled. “Okay…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tentatively, Katherine took a step forward. Then another. Then two steps more until there was no more distance between them. Bree inhaled sharply. Her eyes flicked down to Katherine's lips and she knew she had to stop her. Katherine had asked her to stop her if she didn't agree with this.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Just because Bree had suddenly regressed into an overly hormonal sixteen year old and kept praying that Katherine would kiss her, it didn't mean she wanted it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She looked back to Katherine's eyes. They were shining with emotion instead of the lust Bree had grown accustomed to, and Bree swallowed thickly. This was different. Katherine was asking for permission, looking more nervous than Bree had ever seen her before, and Bree made her choice.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She took a leap of faith and cradled Katherine's cheeks on both hands before angling for a kiss. She felt Katherine sagging in relief against her lips as she kissed her back. It was gentle and sweet and nothing like what they had done before, but it was charged with the same amount of devotion Bree had yet to grow used to.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She cared deeply for this woman, Bree realized then. She cared for Katherine, and she wished this wasn't so complicated. She wished that they could be just friends and that it would be enough for her.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bree drifted back, eyes wide and possibly terrified, and found Katherine was frozen with her eyes closed and open-mouthed like Bree had just blown her mind. Bree couldn't help but smile a little, couldn't believe she had been unaware of how Katherine reacted to her for so long, until Katherine opened her eyes.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Katherine smiled back and Bree's heart skipped a beat.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They walked out of the kitchen like nothing life-changing had happened in there, straight-faced at the questioning look the rest of the girls shot at them. They sat down.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What was </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span> about?” Lynette asked them when neither of them said anything.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bree looked up at her, brows furrowed in confusion, and she could tell Katherine was doing the same.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What do you mean?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Are you guys fighting again?” Susan asked them, looking worried.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Gosh, no. Why would you even suggest that? We've never been better.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You two are being real mysterious about something,” Gaby narrowed her eyes and pointed suspiciously at them.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“There's… nothing to be mysterious about?” Katherine responded with a phony smile, giving them all her most convincing look of puzzlement as Bree felt Katherine's pantyhose-clad foot caressing her calf with slow motions.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Apparently, there might be a bit of the gay thing after all, because Bree just got shivers from that touch alone.</span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>The fourth time it happened, Bree had not been able to describe with exactitude what she had done. She and Katherine had been at work together. Everyone else had already left, but for once Bree wasn't jumping for the opportunity to get away. She was calm, even as every nerve within her body seemed to be overly aware of Katherine's presence in the room.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Katherine was washing her hands with her back turned to Bree, and Bree just stared at it. She had taken off her uniform some time ago, and was now wearing a black pencil skirt and a lavender shirt. Bree was blatantly checking her out — she knew that now, while formerly she would've named the way she was looking as </span>
  <em>
    <span>sizing her up</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bree pursed her lips at her own obliviousness.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You've been awfully quiet,” Katherine commented with an air of nonchalance. She dried her hands with a kitchen towel as she faced her.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bree rolled her shoulders gracefully. “Oh. I just have a lot on my mind.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Katherine hummed. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Does it have… anything to do with our chat from yesterday?” Katherine's voice was strained, like she was trying to not expose too much of herself with it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“A little,” she admitted. She looked down to the counter she was leaning her hip on. She spotted a stain of milk that hadn't been cleaned properly and clenched her jaw. She reached for a cloth and proceeded to wipe it off.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Katherine was looking expectantly at her. “And?” She pressed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bree had to sigh in defeat, pausing her scrubbing motions as she tensed her arms. She shifted on her feet as she flicked her gaze up to Katherine without turning her face fully to her. She felt less exposed that way.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What did it mean?” She asked, not managing to hide the vulnerability from her voice.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I don't know,” Katherine sighed, sounding as lost as Bree felt. “Does it have to mean something?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bree turned to face Katherine then, disbelief washing over her features. She threw her hands upwards in exasperation. “Yes! Of course it has to mean something! Or do you think I would've risked my entire identity for some foolhardy whim?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Katherine cocked her head in a considering manner. “I mean… The possibility did cross my mind,” she drawled. Bree scoffed incredulously. “If you wanted me to believe otherwise, you could just start to admit out loud that we kissed instead of subjecting me to these mental gymnastics.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“They're hardly mental gymnastics,” she argued and crossed her arms.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Bree.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Fine!” Bree exclaimed flippantly, her nostrils flaring. “I kissed you, and it was lovely. Happy?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes,” Katherine smiled indulgently. “I'm ecstatic, do you want me to show how much?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bree's eyes bored into her for a second before she huffed in amusement. She shook her head to herself, because that mediocre proposition shouldn't excite her as much as it did, and lurched forward without a second thought. She pulled Katherine from the collar of her shirt into a hard, closed-mouth kiss.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bree moaned. Katherine was holding onto her hips and laughing lightly against her lips at her eagerness. Bree didn't care. She kissed her again and again. And again. Then one more time as she backed Katherine up against the kitchen counter.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Let </span>
  <em>
    <span>me</span>
  </em>
  <span> show </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” Bree breathed out, pulling away for long enough to see Katherine's pupils dilated.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hm, what're you going to do to me?” Katherine purred. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She was unbuttoning her shirt and dropping it on the floor, revealing her electric blue bra and the smooth expanse of creamy white skin. Bree's green eyes roamed down Katherine's body. Seeing Bree was speechless, Katherine smirked and tilted her head to kiss Bree's jawline.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bree's eyes fluttered shut at the feeling. She was at a loss with what she was supposed to do with her hands, so she let them hang in the air. Then Katherine was tugging Bree's shirt over her head, and unhooking her bra, and engulfing her fingers between tresses of red hair as she grasped her head with both hands, and their lips met again.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bree was aware that she had no idea how women had sex with each other, but she could take a pretty good guess, if what Katherine had done to her in that Halloween party was anything to go by. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She recalled what Orson had done to her before their wedding, how extraordinary it had felt at a time when she had been living blindly to the wonders of an orgasm, and she decided she wanted Katherine to feel that.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>So, she pecked Katherine's lips and descended to her knees under the woman's surprised gaze. She tugged at the zipper of the skirt and let it pool down around Katherine's feet. She was faced with the electric blue underwear that covered her core and Bree began to understand why men liked women in lingerie so much as she looked up to the sight of a half naked Katherine.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You don't have to do </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” Katherine reassured her.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, sweetie,” she sighed and pulled down the underwear. “If I'm going to be in any way gay, then I rather be familiar with everything that it entails.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Katherine began to chuckle until Bree pulled her knees apart and her mouth made contact with her core. “God,” Katherine breathed out.</span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Something's up with those two,” Gaby frowned.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Katherine had just entered Bree's house, who had hugged her and kissed her on the cheek before closing the door. They seemed fine, but she wasn't naive. It </span>
  <em>
    <span>must</span>
  </em>
  <span> be all for show. Gabrielle remembered vividly the madness in Bree's eyes as she secluded herself in the kitchen with Katherine during their last poker night.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I know, right?" Lynette huffed. “The other day I went to Bree's for advice on how to make blueberry muffins because they always come out all flat, and she asked if I'd considered </span>
  <em>
    <span>hiding my muffins</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What?” Gabrielle laughed. “What does that mean?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I have no idea. But the weirdest part was that it looked like she had just gotten out of bed. And you know I never wake up earlier than her.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Nobody does. Maybe she was having a lazy day?” Gabrielle suggested, sounding unconvinced. “God knows she needs to lay down her hair a little.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It's Bree,” Lynette retorted.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I tried to ask her what's going on with her but she just shut me down,” Gaby told her. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, you know how she is,” Lynette said.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What if they're in some kind of trouble?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“But they would come to us if that happened,” she replied.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Gabrielle eyed her skeptically. “You think the emotionally repressed workaholics will ask for help? Right.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Bree would,” Lynette insisted. “I'm not so sure about Katherine.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hm, yeah. Bree said we should give her a chance, and I don't know about you, but I got the feeling Katherine is not that interested in us.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“She's probably hanging with us for Bree.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You know what we should do?" Gabrielle said suddenly. Inspiration had hit her. “They're both in Bree's house right now.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She gave Lynette a mischievous smile. Lynette's eyes widened.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, no. You want to spy on them?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Come on!” Gabrielle pouted a little. “It'll be fun and we'll find out what they've been hiding.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“How about we respect their privacy?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Gabrielle shot Lynette a disbelieving look, and the seriousness on her face quickly melted away. They bursted out in laughter. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As they walked down the street to Bree's house, sly grins stretching the corners of their lips, Gabrielle pondered over her dear friends' well-being. If they </span>
  <em>
    <span>were</span>
  </em>
  <span>, in fact, fighting again, she idly prayed that they hadn't bitten each other's heads off yet. Not before Gabrielle could eavesdrop all the juicy details.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They were stopped on their tracks when Tom met them halfway with a puzzled look in his face and a dull domestic query. By the frustrated way Lynette was looking back at him, Gabrielle could figure this was a common occurrence. She heard Lynette shushing him and giving him a rushed explanation of what they were about to do, and they were moving again, Tom practically stepping on their heels.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They arrived on the porch, and Lynette raised her hand to grasp the doorknob, intending to let herself in, when Gabrielle put a hand in her wrist. She glanced at her quizzically.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“The backdoor,” Gaby hissed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What?” She frowned.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You really wanna sneak in from the front door like we're a bunch of amateurs?!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lynette opened her mouth to retort, and possibly roll her eyes, when the voices coming from inside the house cut her off. Gabrielle immediately sensed the tension and pushed Lynette aside to stick her ear to the door.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Are you serious, Katherine? You want to discuss this now?” Bree's incredulous voice was heard.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes! It's not my fault that you screwed up.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Gabrielle muffled a soft gasp. They </span>
  <em>
    <span>were</span>
  </em>
  <span> fighting. She felt hurt Bree hadn't come to her, if just to bitch about Katherine with her.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>I</span>
  </em>
  <span> screwed up?” Bree gasped, offended. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>You</span>
  </em>
  <span> are the one that wants to use that hideous brand.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Katherine's answer was quiet enough that Gaby had to strain her ears to catch her words. She wasn't saying anything, she noted, but she was emitting a low amused sound that appeared to be a… laugh. Katherine was laughing at Bree. Gabrielle winced. That wouldn't end well.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Bree, if you truly want to learn how to make my lemon meringue, you must give up on fighting me every step of the way,” Katherine chided, but given what she had said, Gabrielle was beginning to notice the good-natured tone of the discussion. “Especially over the brand of flour, for Christ's sake. It's plain all-purpose flour!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Wait, didn't they almost rip each other's heads off because of that pie?” Lynette said.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Holy shit.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“They seem fine to me,” Tom commented with a shrug and they both shot him a scathing glare. “Can we go now?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No!” They chastised him in a hushed tone before turning their ears back to the door. Gabrielle realized they had missed part of the conversation and huffed in annoyance.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Sure, Bree, I wanna ruin the pie,” Katherine drawled.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You're insufferable,” Bree said.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The tone Bree's voice had taken gave her shivers. She </span>
  <em>
    <span>never</span>
  </em>
  <span> wanted to hear that again. It was so… not emotionless that it became terrifying. Because this was </span>
  <em>
    <span>Bree</span>
  </em>
  <span>, with her cold-hearted mask and homemade pastries, refusing to overstep her rigid lines of propriety and etiquette.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And whatever that voice meant, it was </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> Bree-approved. Gaby would have nightmares about it, she was sure.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>However, Katherine wasn't deterred by that. “And you're into it,” she retorted with a self-satisfied grin.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Gabrielle inwardly screamed and waited for the unavoidable outrage. For all that Bree had evidently flirted with Katherine, she couldn't imagine her reacting well to such an accusation. Gabrielle could easily picture Bree flirting with someone and being blithely unaware of it with her tactful approach and obliviousness toward innuendo.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Her naivety of anything remotely sexual had been a major catalyst for Gabrielle's frustration during conversations with her. It was more productive talking to Karen McCluskey if she was searching for some girl talk — she shivered.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>However, the telling-off never came.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“God help us,” Bree sighed, but she was smiling, and allowing Katherine to wrap her arms around her.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You look happy,” Katherine observed with a pleased glint in her eyes.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I am,” she assured. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She enclosed her arms on both sides of Katherine's neck and met her halfway in a wholehearted kiss. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The last time she'd felt this contented and domestic was when Rex was alive. Years prior his death, when everything had been perfect and Bree had obtained everything she'd ever wanted. When life had been weekend BBQS with their neighbors and cooking breakfast every morning for her family. When she had had children at home to nurture.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Katherine was soft, sweet and understanding, while still possessing a vicious streak in the best possible of ways. She encouraged her silly fantasies, made her feel powerful and capable. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>For all the perfection of her life with Rex, he had always found a way to reduce her to the insignificant cleaning lady he had to put up with. He was a man, after all. He couldn't possibly understand the importance of a well prepared home-cooked meal or a spotless tabletop after the correct usage of a coaster.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Katherine did understand, but that was only because she was a woman like Bree. Bree would never get used to it, to craving the touch of a woman, and she suspected she'd never be ready to scream it from the roofs. Fortunately, Katherine had the same belief. For all of her bluntness and bravado, Katherine was as inexperienced about her newfound desires as Bree.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She tasted like oranges, Bree noticed with a soft moan as she swept her tongue over Katherine's lower lip. She pulled away, eyes narrowed. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Is that orange-flavored lip gloss?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bree licked her lips and Katherine clocked the peeking tongue. “Yeah,” she said, voice hoarse.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It's nice,” Bree complimented before a coy smirk appeared in her lips. “As a matter of fact, I believe I should be allowed a second taste.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Katherine's lips curled upwards. “Do you, now?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“The first one wasn't anywhere near long enough to make a lasting impression.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Katherine grasped the back of Bree's head and pulled her into a passionate kiss just as she had finished her sentence. Bree released a low moan, hands sliding up the nape of Katherine's neck. She let her fingers dig slightly into her scalp. Bree felt every nerve within her body tingling and warming up with need.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, my,” she gasped, eyes piercing into Katherine's dilated pupils.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“How's that for a lasting impression?” Katherine purred. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bree's lashes fluttered as she took a deep breath. “Well... I declare myself satisfied,” she said and cleared her throat, regaining her composure. She stepped back from the embrace. When she looked up to Katherine's expression, she found her staring in confusion. “The lemon meringue,” she reminded her, almost scolding.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Katherine blushed. Bree began to walk back into the kitchen.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“But when we're done-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“When we're done, I'll take you to my bed and completely and utterly defile you and your delicious lips,” Bree called offhandedly over her shoulder. “Do ensure you are well hydrated beforehand, sweetie.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The eleventh time it happened, Bree couldn't say she had imagined it in any way previously, because insinuating she had believed she and Katherine would have lasted long enough for it to occur would be a lie. However, she had nurtured a few fantasies over the time they had spent together.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sometimes, Katherine would drag her into an unwanted situation, which meant they kissed again. In other occasions, Bree was the one dragging Katherine along into her desires, pulling her into her bedroom, muttering sweet nothings to the other woman's ear. Either way, it always included a copious amount of kissing and other imagery Bree hadn't been aware she was capable of creating.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But she had never, not once, pictured two of her closest friends and one of their husbands eavesdropping on them from the other side of the front door.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh. My. </span>
  <em>
    <span>God</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” Gabrielle choked, and slapped Lynette's arm with the back of her hand.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ow, what was that for?” Lynette scowled.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Gabrielle shook her head, still flabbergasted.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I don't get it,” Tom frowned stupidly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Gabrielle just blinked at the door, lips parted in mild shock and discomfort. She had been waiting for fighting and bickering, maybe some dishes smashed against the wall. She hadn't expected </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I knew they had issues, but I haven't seen them with this level of passive-aggressiveness in a while,” Lynette said, a pregnant silence later.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Gabrielle jerked her head up in bewilderment. Passive-aggressiveness, Lynette had said. What the-</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Is it just me or that was kinda hot?” Tom said suddenly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It is just you,” his wife told him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Lynette, can you tell your husband to stop being a pig?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Stop being a pig,” she repeated flatly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What? It was!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, I bet they sounded an awful lot like the beginning of those movies you pretend to Lynette you don't own,” Gabrielle retorted sarcastically.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tom spluttered, turning an unhealthy shade of red. Lynette looked puzzled, but quickly shook it away.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So. I guess they </span>
  <em>
    <span>were</span>
  </em>
  <span> fighting,” Lynette said with an oblivious nonchalance. “Or something.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Gaby stared at her intensely. “Or something,” she repeated, straight-faced.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“They seem fine to me,” Tom said. “Aren't women like this with each other?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Gabrielle and Lynette's annoyed glares effectively shut him up.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I'm telling ya, it's probably something to do with their business," Lynette raised her hands. “But I think they're okay now. What did she mean by </span>
  <em>
    <span>defile</span>
  </em>
  <span>?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I'm outta here,” Gaby sighed exasperatedly and walked away.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“They just seem like really good friends!” Tom called after her.</span>
</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
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